“Okay, but promise me you’ll stop by the café and I’ll make it up to you.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she put thought to what she was asking. “I mean, for breakfast, or coffee. We have these cinnamon rolls that the whole town loves and I’m sure y’all could use some coffee, right? On the house—to make up for the mess I’ve caused. I insist.”

“Okay, but only because everyone at the station will appreciate it. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“It was mostly me running into you.” She blushed.

“Most excitement I’ve had all day. Well, except for hiding from Ms. DeMarco.”

“Have a good day, Charlie.”

“You too, Lane.”

Lane turned and strode to her car before Charlie could steal another one of her breaths. Could he hear the anticipation in her voice to see him again? Why was his presence in her life so disarming? And what was she going to do about it?

Charlie dropped his hat on his desk and wiped the sweat from his brow. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the humidity, but the pressure outside was nothing compared to the pressure mounting inside the station. Deputies hunched over their desks, pounding back their third or fourth cups of coffee as they answered the assault of phone calls.

Everyone had a tip. Heard a strange noise. Or wanted details. The peaceful community Sheriff Huggins worked so hard to maintain had been shaken. Now the citizens of Walton wanted answers. And based on the messages sitting on Charlie’s desk, so did the reporters. Just like Ms. DeMarco—they’d have to wait.

Charlie changed out of his sticky uniform and into a fresh one before heading back to the small room reserved for him and Deputy Frost to use while the investigation remained active. The flurry of activity he passed reminded him of the chaos in the Tactical Operations Command when a unit was under assault.

When the scrap hit the fan, the TOC became a lifeline, sending in reinforcement or air support to those fighting the enemy. But this was different. They didn’t even know who the enemy was. Yet.

The drone of chaos quieted as he made his way to the small office at the back of the building. After a quick stop at a vending machine, Charlie entered the room with humming fluorescent lights and no windows.

“Sorry it’s late.” Charlie lifted the bag holding their lunch. “And probably cold. I owe you.”